Listen Up
by himawarixxsandz
Summary: Sequel/Partner fic to "Story Time" Incompleted
1. The Hell's This About?

Chapter One: Hell's This About?

The hell? What the fuck're you all doing here? Did the idiot put you up to this? If he did, no way in effing hell am I telling you a fucking story. I'd shit a brick before I do. Great. Now you're all giggling. What the hell is with girls and giggling? All right, you know what? I'll just tell you to shut you all up and get it over with. So you all better listen up, because I'm not going to be repeating any of this.

It was raining and I was pissed. I was pissed because just after I beat the last of the damn assassins—on a freezing winter night during which I'd much rather be in my fucking bed instead of scaling a rooftop—the freaking princess those assassins were coming after sent me out of my freaking country. How was that showing gratitude in any form at all? And to top it off, she put some sort of weird mark on my forehead….the damn thing was giving me a headache.

And then suddenly there were these random people in this random hellhole of a place in front of me and around me. What the FUCK was going on? Tomoyo would pay for this one way or the other. I took in the surroundings. There was the creepy woman staring at me with holier-than-thou eyes….a kid hugging a girl like he wanted to jump her bones, but was afraid she'd die before he got a chance to…..and this….guy in a big, fluffy coat that no dignity-retaining man should ever wear.

Okay, you know what? SHUT THE HELL UP. Has anyone ever told you how annoying that gasping-wide-eyed-ZOMG-ing thing you do is? And NO I didn't think the big, fluffy coat made him look—look…..the word you just said! No not that one, the one that began with an s which I will no way in HELL'S NAME repeat. You're all reading way too much girly stuff. Our first meeting? Yeah, no shit happening there. I saw him, I learned his name, and then we were off.

Although I did think he had some badass blue eyes.


	2. What's With Them and Tigers?

Chapter Two: What's With Them and Tigers?

Shut up. All I said was that he had some pretty badass eyes. Nihon hadn't been doing great, all right? God. The weather had been stormy is all, and his eyes were nice and blue…like the sky. You can't train in the rain. Well you can, but it doesn't work out well.

Moving on. Did any of you notice this world's obsession with tigers? They had them pasted all over the damn city. I dunno 'bout all of you, but I was fucking annoyed by all the tiger heads staring at me. You know what else was fucking irritating? The mage.

It was like he was on an eternal sugar rush. Who in God's name smiled that much? It wasn't fucking possible for any normal human being to smile all the damn time. I was pretty damn sure it was against the laws of…nature or whatever. Then again, the first time I saw him in the Big Fluffy Coat it was obvious this man was used to defying science—not only defying it, but turning back and blowing a raspberry in its scientific ass.

All the same, I wasn't stupid—say nothing. A man could be an idiot, act like an idiot, and look like an idiot, but that idiocy didn't have to be dragged on to the battlefield. And the battlefield was where I decided my true judgments on others. And this guy? Shit. He fought like there was no tomorrow, but with an ease that verged on showing-off. But….there was also a certain….restraint…a fearful restraint almost….in how he fought. As though he was afraid of going too far…..of scaring someone else….

Well, my conclusion was that he was one messed up idiot. Not that I was one to talk, but, you know, I wasn't half as screwed up as this guy. At least I didn't smile all the time and I'd sure as hell die before I owned a Big Fluffy Coat. Where the HELL did you even GET one of those things?

Not that I wanted one.

But unknowingly and sure as hell unwillingly….a tiny, microscopic, atomic part of me was drawn in by the mage…..this Fai D. Fluorite…..a part of me….was interested in him. I didn't know why, but I just was.

It was the eyes, I told myself. Just the eyes.


	3. Acid Bubbles

Chapter Three: Acid Bubbles

I'd be lying if I said I liked this world, because I didn't. It was one of the most frustrating worlds yet. Who allows a fucking old geezer with earlobes down to his chin to take over their village? I'd have killed him before letting shit like that go down in my home region. But stuff did happen with the mage here. Stuff that I really didn't like at all.

It wasn't just his eyes now—why were they always so damn sad? Why were they always behind a film of lies? Why did I even want to know about what they looked like unburdened with those lies?

No. Now it was his smile. His damn fucking lying smile. The only time he looked….real….was when he wasn't smiling. I didn't get it. I didn't get why I even cared. I didn't get it at all. But then this happened….

It was dark and the stars were out. I hadn't gotten around to completely fixing the roof, because it was sort of hard to hammer when you had an idiot mage annoying you to hell and back. This world was sort of like mine in a way—the manner of dress wasn't all too different. I never got things like homesickness….but it did make me wonder…..

I was leaning against the corner, head tipped up slightly, arms cushioning against it against the wood. My hair bristled on the bare skin of my arms. I didn't know if I was still angry at Tomoyo…..I'd rather she'd just given me harder opponents to kill…but maybe this could be a more interesting challenge….survive these worlds…..defeat without killing……and return to her. Who knew, I could get stronger this way……it wasn't like I understood her "true strength" bullshit.

"Ooh, look. Kuro-pyon's in deep thought," the idiot's voice whispered. I turned and glared. He'd somehow managed to creep up on my left, his eyes hooded and the moonlight framing his face.

"Go away, mage," I hissed back, closing my eyes. I felt him sit down beside me; when I looked, his legs were propped up and his arms casually rested atop his knees. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"I could ask the same to you." He stretched out, his hands now holding his entire frame up, head thrown back…one of those fake smiles plastered on his pale face. Except….this one didn't look all that fake. It was sort of….nice….? "Aren't you tired from doing all that work on Chu'nyan's house?"

"I couldn't exactly get much done with you jabbering at me," I said. "'Sides, it's them who really need the rest." I jerked my chin across the room, gesturing at the futons the kids were sleeping on.

He didn't move his gaze from the sky. "Hyuu….Kuro-tan's so caring."

"The crap was that? You don't know how to whistle or shit?"

"Nope. No one's ever taught me…..really." The idiot turned and smiled at me. "Why? Does Kuro-chan know how? I doubt he'd want to teach me, though. I'm hopeless at those sort of things."

I whistled softly, a tune low and simple. "Then I'd just keep trying till you learned. It ain't that hard, anyway."

"What if I still never learned?" Something in his tone challenged.

"I don't believe that," I shrugged. "I don't think you're the idiot you act to be. I think you'd learn in the five seconds it took me to demonstrate if you really wanted to."

He stared at me. "You're a strange person, do you know, Kuro-rin?"

"It's Kurogane. And you know you're stranger, right?"

The mage tossed his head back again, gazing at the stars. "I know."

And just like that…..the trap snapped shut around my neck. I couldn't not care. I couldn't not stare at him wherever he went. I could pass it off as boredom, with nothing else to do but stare at him—he was entertaining, anyway—but that would be a lie. I couldn't not save him—even if it meant a hefty bruise in the stomach, that acid bubble headed for him practically had signs surrounding it in bold lettering. I swore my body even moved on its own.

I didn't like this. I didn't like what was happening already.


	4. Freakin' Manjuu Bun

Chapter Four: Freakin' Manjuu Bun

Why the crap was this world so damn freakin' cold? And why did the stupid manjuu bun have to get it on in MY damn coat? Not to say that it wasn't warm and filled with body heat—NOT that I enjoyed his cuddling—but really? And why couldn't the mage have lent me his Big Fluffy Coat? Not that I would've worn the disgrace in public, God forbid.

And STOP THE GIGGLING. NO I did NOT _LIKE_ the Big Fluffy Coat. And NO we are not in possession of the damn coat as of this moment, because if we were it'd be on my—

Just shut up. Shut up.

This world was…..interesting. A change from the ones where we had to fight to get the feathers…..in this one we had to _think_ to get them. And apparently, even though the kid wasn't the best of fighters, he was pretty damn smart. Not to say the Princess wasn't, because she was pretty clever too….more powerful than she knew….seeing dead spirits and whatnot.

It was pretty amusing to see those guys with the guns think that just because _they_ had guns and we didn't meant that they could scare us silly into submission. Yeah. Right.

I never did trust that Kyle guy. He seemed way too nice to be trustworthy, but neither did I trust the other guy….with the mustache and the weird ponytail. Were it up to me, I'd just put them on gun point and see who sweat the most instead of going through all those books and falling headfirst into the snow reading them. But the kid likes books so, bite me.

The stalker bit at the end got me more excited if not happier. Yeah, I know that's a bit creepy, but really. Things were already getting boring. It was 'bout time happenings got a little higher with the stakes. There was no point in doing anything if there wasn't any risk to it, right?

It was weird to say….but the mage seemed almost…..at home with the cold of this country. He did mention that his world was even colder than this—something I couldn't really imagine. Well…..I sort of could, but I was so cold I'd really rather not. Winters in Nihon could get pretty damn nasty, which was why I preferred warm weather.

Still, it felt like something was wrong with me. I swore I'd caught that cold that the Doctor Kyle guy said had been going around with the kids—though it was apparently a lie, we now knew.

Whenever I was in close proximity with the mage…..my head felt like it was being squeezed…….my chest felt congested……and…..now, before I say anything further, living in the barracks with other ninja taught me that not all men were honorable pigs, most of them were sleazy dishonorable pigs. Not that I was a pig, because I wasn't. Only some men were and some weren't.

Or maybe it was an age thing? Because the more I saw of the mage the more I imagined him…..undressed. But the times I imagined him…..undressed were nothing in comparison to the times I imagined me touching him—not violating him….but just…..touching him. Stroking his hair….tracing his throat…..weird, right?

I clamp my hands over my ears and scowl. If you make sounds like one more time, I swear I'll—

My arms are crossed and my foot is tapping. I'm settling for waiting until the shrieks die down and half-hoping that they won't and you'll all just die from lack of oxygen. It could happen.

All right. NOW that you've all decided to act like freakin' NORMAL human girls, I'll get on with the effing story.

It was the second night we were in Jade. In other words, the night after the Princess first saw the ghost, and the one before we caught Kyle. He was in his room and I was watching through the doorway. We'd just finished discussing the possibilities of if it was the mayor or Mustache or anyone else.

Both of us had already shed our coats. He sat on the bed's edge, twirling the trihorn hat round and round in his slender white hands. "Do you think Sakura-chan really did see the ghost?"

"What, you don't believe her?" I raised an eyebrow at him. He lifted his eyes to meet mine. Again, something hurt….twisted. Why couldn't he just make those eyes happier and we could both get on with our lives?

"Trust isn't something you should toss out from a little basket to random people on the street, Kuro-rin." He smiled angelically and threw the hat at me. It landed neatly on my head. My scalp suddenly felt like it was burning—this was the same hat that'd just been in his hands….on his head…..and now it was on me….

Screw me, I had no clue why I was spazzing over the fact that his hat was on my head. Like I'd said, it was probably delirium coming from the cold, which was bull in itself since I never had a cold in my life. There was a first for everything, maybe?

"If you don't give it to anyone, you won't have anyone to depend on," I countered, ignoring the fact that knowing that the hat had been on his head—on his soft, blond hair—was making my throat tingle.

He collapsed onto his back, his legs still on the floor. "Dependence means you're getting close to a person…..if you lose them or they lose you…..it'll make someone unhappy….."

I didn't know how to respond to that. I simply glared at him. "But if you stay away from them that'll make them unhappy, too. Not to say I don't think it's better to be alive and unhappy then dead and happy."

"Is it?" The smile had faded as he came back up to look at me through the sheer veil of golden bangs. "Have you ever been that unhappy and still had to live?"

"Hell yeah I have."

He merely looked at me. "I don't believe you." And then he had the gall to smile. "Sorry."

I tossed his hat back to him. "Then there you have it. Independence can also be taken as a fear to get close." With my heart thumping, I turned around and walked to my own room, closing the door before my control failed me.

Those words took more than I had to say. They were the truth, but I didn't want to say them. That itself was enough to get suspicious….usually I liked nothing more than saying the blunt truth…..it was satisfying….but now, when I saw that look on his face…..after I said those awful words….I wanted nothing more than lie to him. As long as he was happy…..I'd have done anything.

And that scared me.


	5. I'm Busy

Chapter Five: I'm Busy

You know, the way you look at me is kind of scaring the shit out of me. I'm not something to eat….you know. Neither am I something to fuck. Although I won't deny that I'm a nice piece of fucking material. Not that I'm arrogant, or anything. But really. It's kinda creepy.

Not stalker creepy, but creepy as in—

"Kuro-sama?" He stands in the doorway, the sunlight forming a halo around the airy flaxen strands. I can tell that he just finished changing from the robes he wore when he cast wards with Tomoyo. His clothes are still a bit loose on him, and it's hanging open just enough for me to see his pale body….

What? If it's the psychopath girls, don't mind them. You got them so bloody excited with the storytelling that now they have this idea in their heads that I can tell my side, too.

He gives a small smile and just like that I want to give him everything in the world—you see how annoying love is? "Really?" He laughs a bit, and all of you are instantly swooning—no dignity, huh? "What world are you at, now, Kuro-chan?"

I don't remember. I just finished the one where the manjuu bun kept trying to get into my pants.

The mage's smile turns wicked. "You mean like how you're always trying to get into mine?" The laughter comes out freely from you and some of your eyes are darting back and forth between us, hoping for something. Yeah. The idiot would pay for that, so you just sit back and hold tight. Anyone under the consented age just close your eyes. Hell, I don't even care if you look.

I stand up, and take a step toward him. Yeah, mage. Just like that. His eyes widen and he attempts to take a step back as I close in, but I swiftly snap the screen shut, holding it that way with one of my hands easily.

"There are young girls in the room, Kuro—"

Screw them. I can smell the soft woodsy scent of the shrines drifting from him…I can also smell warm water—he'd been to the baths without me? Huh. Before he can go on any further about chastity and defiling young ladies mind and so forth and so on, I cover his mouth with mine and I can feel his body react even faster than my own—new record, it is, then.

He could try to act as monk-ly as he wants; I know that there's never a time he didn't want me to fuck him into a wall. Or a bed. Or a rock. Or Ameterasu's desk. Or Tomoyo's tea table.

What? At least we're creative.

I can hear your squealing and screaming going higher and higher than the human voice should be allowed to go, but really I can care less, because I've already got two fingers inside him, and even though he's trying his best not to notice anything….and to keep his robes together…..I'm winning.

And then, I know it was coming. He places a thin hand over mine and his eyes are solemn and pleading and soft and serious and asking me _please wait for a moment, please _and I have to obey. Whether I want to or not, my body's on some kind of automated response thing.

His face is flushed and his eye is over bright. I can't help but smirk. No matter what he does or says, his body doesn't lie. "All right," he coughs. "I think you should get back to entertaining your guests, Kuro-pii."

I grin widely and kiss him again—even sort of maybe perhaps kind of enjoying the "kya-ing" and the "ZOMGZOMG-ing". Maybe.

He sighs into my mouth and now I know I can't stop. The fingers go in again and his sash is on the floor and now his legs are around my waist and I'm untying my own sash and I'm walking out the room and some of you yell for us to just stay in the room and do it. I stick my middle finger—the one that's not occupied within the…erm, mage—at your general direction. Shut up. I'm busy.

* * *

_A/N: Naughty, naughty, Kuro-sama...lmao, I had WAAAAY too much fun with this scene. Still, you've gotta admit. _


	6. Hold Up, I Need Earplugs for This

Chapter Six: Hold Up, I Need Earplugs for This

I plop back onto the cushion and glare at you, daring the screams to start and the questions to begin. You're all just looking at me with those simpleton grins on your faces. One of you asks where the mage is. I cough loudly. He's uh….resting it up. I think he needs to find clothes that don't have blood on them…..

A few of you snicker and say how I need to be more careful next time while some others just laugh out loud, heads back hands grasping at stomachs.

Shut the hell up. I ain't gonna get this finished by nightfall if you don't. And I have way better things to do at night then to—

And no, it's not just fucking the mage.

So what world is next? As though in a school, you all raise your hands. I shrug, pointing to someone in the middle. What? You answer, "Oto." Ah, got it. The world where they effing erased our memories and gave me the FUCKING SCARE OF MY LIFE when I THOUGHT the mage died, right? Great.

But something in here happened that'll make you all squeal your little lungs out, so I'll just use these earplugs the mage told me would help a lot during this storytelling shit. Okay, got 'em in. So now I can't hear shit—perfect. No really—it's great.

Just 'cause I never regretted anything, didn't mean it wasn't hard to do some of those things I did. It was hard to watch the kid face that his Princess would never remember him…even though they could always try to start over, all those memories built would be lost.

It was hard to acknowledge the fact that I wasn't just comrades with the mage. He wasn't just my ally. He wasn't even my friend. It was high time that I broke the wall of self-denial

I liked him.

I _liked_ him.

Shit.

I wasn't supposed to like anyone. At least, not like in that way. I could like 'em because they were a good fighter—I could like Ameterasu (sort of) because she was a damn good empress. I could like Tomoyo (maybe-ish) because she was the one I served. I could like the kid and the Princess because they were….determined in their own way. I could even like the manjuu bun…….perhaps.

But I couldn't like this…..guy. I couldn't like him in a way I was supposed to like a fucking woman. I wasn't supposed to look at him in any way even resembling that. I'd never given much thought on a sex life—though I had screwed with kunoichi here and there for the hell of it.

But if I had it'd probably go something like this. 1) I'd find a woman—a kunoichi or a priestess—that I could be around with without wanting to use them as a javelin by their hair. 2) I'd get to know them and crap like that. 3) I'd ask (make) them to marry me. 4) We'd fuck around 'till we had kids. 5) We'd die, end of fairytale.

Or some crap close to that.

I certainly wasn't suppose to like a damn mage, who lied all the time, smiled way too much than was healthy, probably didn't give a shit about me and probably never would. No. It wasn't supposed to be like that at all. Not to mention that I didn't know a thing about the guy besides his name—if it _was_ even his real name—and what he looked like.

Yeah, see, shit like this wasn't supposed to happen to people like me.

And I definitely was supposed to go around saving lying, happy-go-lucky mages who couldn't defend themselves in battle. But there was something wrong with me that night. Why else did I tap his injured leg with my sheath, knowing it would hurt him? Why else would I tell him that I hated people like him?

Because I was scared. I was shit scared to a point where I had no more shit at all, and I really needed to get my balls back, and I ended up doing that by taking it out on the mage.

I just wanted to never have met him. All this crap was happening to me because he thought it'd just be okay to stroll the hell in to my life. Though, it was technically Tomoyo's fault, why did the guy have to even go on this stupid journey? I knew he said he was running from an Ashura guy—no clue who that was, didn't really care—but that just made it worse. The _look_ on this idiot's face when he said that name….who _was_ this Ashura guy to him exactly?

But the smile that instantly swept up his lips the minute those words left my own….it just got worse. It never got better. It just got worse and worse and _worse_. A part of me wanted to wring that bastard's neck and throw him out a third story window and another part of me wanted to hold onto him and let go when hell froze over. No scratch that, hold on to him even _if_ hell froze over.

That same night I had to drag the kids to bed—and the mage. The manjuu bun was no problem. Just poke holes on the lid of a jar and stuff the damn thing into it. Release it onto a sleeping Princes—the bun would cuddle up right with her and it was two birds with one stone. I just fed the kid some story about how the Princess's feathers were in a dream and he had to go to bed to get it—knocked him out dead, that one.

The mage, however, was an entirely different story. He wouldn't listen to any tall tale because he was the king of those. If I could stuff him in a jar I would've done so long ago—along with tossing him into some ocean. And dragging him into bed was much harder than it sounded. He used his built to his advantage—slipping and squirming and slithering through my hands like putty.

I roared and bellowed as many profanities as I could think of—which was a considerable list—but all he'd do was laugh his head off and continue to find means of escape. Unluckily for him, I'd be damned and dead before I allowed a drunk to wriggle out of my grasp. Alcohol was plentiful in the ninja barracks, and I'd hauled many a giddy comrade into bed—wrestling him asleep and even punching to knock them unconscious.

I finally reached the golden gates, and dumped the mage onto his bed. When he struggled to right himself, I saw that he wasn't really struggling at all and his eyes were clear and sober. Of course. It was just like him to be faking the entire thing. "Are you gonna sleep in your clothes, idiot? The kids at least were somewhat able to change. God help me if the Princess hadn't been able to."

He laughed, sitting up, and gazing upward to me vaguely. His eyes were sadder than ever, and his smile was no more truthful than his drunken stupor had been. The idiot tilted his head and said happily, "Of course I am, Kuro-kun. Silly, did you think I'm that drunk? Besides…you must be tired. Go to bed. Don't let the bed bugs bite!" He waved his hand at me, a sigh of dismissal.

I wasn't his fucking babysitter. And I wasn't his effing pet either. I'd leave because it was his room, but I wouldn't leave just because he told me. Yes, I was aware that that statement just made no sense whatsoever. I quickly grappled for something to say—something steady. "If you want me to leave, I will. But I just want to make sure you aren't gonna attack me in my sleep or anything. I'm staying until you fall asleep," I growled. And it was true. I'd been glomped on by this guy more than once in bed. No, that wasn't a good thing. Ninjas tended to…..react a bit when you surprised them. Especially with sharp objects.

The idiot wasn't fazed. He simply kept on smiling. "But Kuro-puppy's a ninja, isn't he? He should be able to guard himself against attacks on the sly like that. Hmm, should I give it a try?"

"Just change, mage." I could already feel my head pulsing.

And my heart throbbing.

You all seem to know what's about to happen, but I can't hear any of your screams, so HA. Though I can see that some of you have very nice teeth. But…what are those metal wires some of you have….? Good God, what kind of punishments to parents USE on you guys these days? Huh. Nice tongues, though. Get any cock in there?

Yeah, so he'll kill me for saying that, but we're all curious.

My chest abruptly felt extremely flimsy and an insufficient barrier from my heart to the outside air. He was changing. In front of me. My hands dug inside my pockets and my fingers curled in on themselves. I pulled them out and shook them loosely, trying to silence my breathing.

He seemed to be surveying the strange bloated pants the kid had given him as he told me indifferently…coldly almost, "You can go to sleep if you want. I think you've made it clear that you know I'm not drunk."

My insides were cringing from the tone of his voice. I scowled. I didn't know what to do with my hands, so I crossed my arms. "Who said I figured it out? I didn't." It was just damn obvious, like all of your lies are—I wanted to say.

He smiled at me, turning around. "Yes, since it wasn't obvious at all. But really, Kuro-tan. Go ahead to sleep. I'll be fine." Read minds, could he?

"Why do you want me to leave so badly?" I snorted. Yes. Why? Why did you? Did you hate me for saying what I did? Did you hate me, period? Was I prodding into your life? Was it a crime to simply know you behind the pretty face—behind the smiles?

"It isn't fair for me to keep you in a room with the person you hate." The smile was more irritating than ever—only now there was a new addition. It was frustrating. Maddening. Angering.

Okay. I'd had enough. Just about it. I unfolded my arms and neared him, step by step. His eyes glowed eerily in the moonlight—a silver crown atop his flawless head. "What's with the assumptions? I don't recall ever sayin' that." I flew through the words over and over—looking for a loophole.

He floated—well he walked, but whenever he even fucking moved….you could see the magic in him. He wasn't normal. No normal human being could enchant like this—could bewitch so heartlessly. "Your memory must be dysfunctional. You said it only hours ago, remember? I could probably quote you word for word, too." His gaze met mine stoically. It was those eyes again—as light and blue as the sky, and at the same time, dark and deep and aged as the sea.

No. Even my words hadn't lied. I had always hated people who committed suicide—even over serious things. The minute I heard a fellow ninja had hung himself from the unbearable war or shit, or when an enemy had killed himself from fear….I practically spit at his corpse.

But I could never hate him. I could never hate Fai.

"No. I said nothing about hating you. Although I do remember sayin' something 'bout hating people like you." I looked away from him, staring at the moon. It was full and silver….a clear night. Excellent weather for an assassination.

As I made to turn back to him, simultaneously he moved up and our lips caught. It was simple and not altogether unexpected….but it was still surprising. His lips were sweet from alcohol and cold for some reason. I felt his fingers trace against the side of my jaw. And then….much too quickly, it was over.

In that one tiny half second moment before he spoke, I could see it in his eyes—see the longing, the absolute desire. He wanted me. He wanted me nearly as much as I did him. I had a chance. I had a fucking chance.

"Now do you hate me?" he murmured, teasing me—taunting me.

No. I don't hate you. I never would. I couldn't. It was impossible. You could hate me, and I'd never hate you. You could kill me and I'd never want revenge. You could crush my heart, and I'd let you.

But the only way I could reply was by leaning down, touching our foreheads together and gazing at him. At his perfection….at his flawlessness….knowing that he'd had to have ensnared so many in his trap and I was just another hapless victim. I left a single kiss on his lips—letting my hand trail down his throat—and sighed. "Guess."

I forced myself to draw away and not to look back. I forced my feet to move on in front of the other and leave the room, never knowing how he looked after that. After we first kissed.

You're all staring at me blankly. Some of your mouths have come open. Slowly but surely, I watch you clamp hands over your mouths and begin screaming—well, I assume the shrieking is happening, but I can't be sure as I can't hear anything at all. I pull out an earplug just to gauge how loud the damn sound is….only to stuff it back in hastily. DAMN. You girls have got some healthy vocal chords. Tomoyo's having a ball in a few weeks….any of you care to be the opera singer? Our last one…..erm…..died. It may or may have not been the mage's fault. Souma said it was mine since I was the one who started molesting him right in front of her—she was an….elderly lady with some….weight on her and not the strongest of hearts—but I shot back that it was HIS fault since he was the one coming out of the baths half-clothed, and he KNEW how horny I got after training.

Tomoyo said it was nobody's fault. Ameterasu said it was both our faults. I said to go screw themselves and threw the mage over my shoulder and dragged him back to our room to continue.

What do you think?

From the looks of things, you're all laughing like I'd just said the funniest thing in all the worlds. All right? You know what? I'm ditching the earplugs. I have no fuck what's going on when I'm wearing them.

Anyway.

It would be an understatement to say that I was angry when I found out the mage had died. I wasn't angry. I was beyond words. I was outraged. I was seeing red, and I wanted to kill the next person that even appeared living in front of me—including the Princess, manjuu and the kid. I wanted to murder everyone.

But the thing was, when I was that furious—I didn't look it at all. I looked absolutely calm and unfeeling. Again, it was battle where I did all my shit. And in battle, I was going to mutilate and maim and murder—my three M's—Sei-fucking-shiro.

And then…I found out he was fucking alive. It was like finding out you were about to drown and then a rescue ship suddenly comes out of fucking nowhere to pull you out of the water. It was the best damn fucking feeling in every fucking world.

That just proved how much I needed him. When I was fighting Seishiro….it didn't feel like I'd be satisfied when he was dead…..it felt like I wished he'd just kill me…..because anything was better than living without my mage.


	7. I Actually Remember This One

_A/N: Theeeeeeeeey're OFF!!!! I just got my braces off today--and missed all my morning classes during :D--and it feels weird and getting the glue off hurt like effing crap, but that doesn't matter because as of now theeeeeeeey're OFF!!! And there's going to be a tiny scare--not scare as in halloween or creepy scary, scary as in worrying scare--at the end of this, but this fic isn't over. Just so there's no confusion later on. It's just Kuro-tan being Kuro-tan. Well....you'll understand what I mean when you get to the end of this chapter. _

* * *

Chapter Seven: I Actually Remember This One

Yeah, so I can actually recall the name of this world. Yama, or some shit like that, right? I don't think there's any way I could not remember this hellhole. I'd be able to play the memories over and over until I'm in my grave. I didn't doubt it a single bit.

We probably would've had had to kill every fucking soldier in the entire encampment the minute the stupid, dysfunctional manjuu dropped us on our heads in the middle of it all. Fortunately, we didn't since Yasha was right there watching. They weren't exactly free on soldiers which meant we were taken in and strapped up for battle—lucky for us it was that very night, whoop-dee-fucking-do.

But it felt freakin' amazing to be a warrior again—not exactly a ninja where it depended on stealth and secrecy, but I needed a sword beneath my fingertips. I'd never been one to use a mount like Souma, but now I could say that I'd had the experience at least.

The sixth months here I could spread into different stages. I spent the hours after our first battle trying to sort out the similarities and differences between their language and my own original one. It was close enough that I could just consider it another dialect. At least I wasn't as far off as the mage.

But these sixth months were nearly all about the mage. It began when Yasha told me off the age old pairing of the swordsman and the archer. How if both were consistent and skilled, it was a nearly undefeatable setting. I didn't know how….but I somehow got it through to the mage…and we were exactly that.

Undefeatable.

We became Yasha's advisors—his right hand men. He consulted us—well, me—before any move he made toward Ashura. The mage hadn't had any reaction at Ashura's—this Ashura's—appearance….it must mean that it wasn't his Ashura…..which would make sense since this Ashura was a girl.

The first month I was still trying to figure out how the hell was I supposed to survive without being able to talk to the mage—and how he was supposed to survive not being able to talk at all. Or understood. But he was smart—scary smart—and a quick learner. He was far smarter than the others took him for, but they, too, learned how lethal he was, despite his appearance.

But a part of me was angry. Angry with the other soldiers. Did you see how they looked at him? They looked at him like he was a bed warmer. It was sickening. I knew he noticed it, but he couldn't exactly lash out verbally at them—neither could he attack them, as that was against the rules.

They gathered in the baths….awaiting him to come in every night. I always found myself lurking in the corners….not stalking him….just making sure none of them tried anything funny.

It was the month after that that I noted my eyes—their color. I'd been filling a bucket with water for my mount and in the clear liquid, two black orbs stared back at me where there should've been familiar red ones. It wasn't so much a shock as it was a realization. After all, I'd seen the mage's blue eyes darken each passing day, as well. It was strange I hadn't thought of my own eyes changing.

This world was unnerving. At first it was fine—I was a soldier again, I could fight—but soon it was catching up. The mage never talked anymore. He smiled and laughed and fought…..but I never really heard his voice. I needed to hear him….even if it was gibberish….I…

I missed him.

As fucking girly as that sounded, I did. I noticed him close in on himself more and more each day. I could only imagine how he felt. No one being able to understand him….no way of knowing if anyone ever would….and being caressed with those disgusting gazes everywhere he went….

I couldn't stand the thought of him unhappy. I wouldn't. I wanted to….I didn't even know what I wanted anymore. So I did what I could. Random moments….we spent together…..there were tons of them. But I could remember each one with such clarity. Two of them stood out the most. One good, one bad.

I'd been waiting a while for the mage to return from bathing. I wasn't worried that anyone had taken advantage of him in there since he always took eternity with cleaning himself. But……a part of me wondered why he took such a long time. It was a pathetic thing to be contemplating, but I'd been pretty pathetic lately anyway—getting caught up in a mage that was probably a criminal looking for a plaything.

He was flawless. Even when the other soldiers leered at him, he carried himself with a grace and composure that was almost inhuman. Yes, his mask had tons of cracks, but other than that…..nothing.

I glanced at his pallet and saw that he'd left his towel. I sighed, grabbing it and standing up; ducked out of the tent and headed across camp toward the showers.

I found him in the last stall—wedged all the way in there. He was sitting on the wet tiles, the steam surrounding his pale, naked body and the rivulets coming down from the showerhead—it was still on. His eyes were hooded and he was staring at his knees. I couldn't tell if it was just the water, but….it gave off the impression of tears.

He glanced up when he heard me. I was getting as soaked as he was in this place….but I didn't care. I knelt down beside him….there was something about seeing him helpless like this that ignited inside of me. He was human. He wasn't a bewitcher, an enchanter….he was just him. The mage. My mage. An idiot…..the biggest in the world.

His expression was utterly stoic, frozen, as though he didn't want me to see what was behind the mask—he never did. I wanted to break that shell—break all those stone walls and shatter them on the ground.

I narrowed my eyes…..hesitantly holding out my hand towards his. He stared down at the extended limb and then back up to me. I knew he wouldn't understand me, but I asked him with my expression. I didn't really touch him and he didn't touch me. We sort of reached out at the same time so that our hands met. I threaded my fingers through his, enclosing them around his hand and bringing his wet knuckles to my lips. I tasted the warm water that was on them….how his skin was cold despite the warm steam.

Cold….why was he always cold? It felt like my warmth….my body heat….it never reached through to him. Why?

The look on his face was now so pained that I thought something I did offended him—insulted him. I rewound and I couldn't find anything hardly offensive. But it was the mage—anything was possible with him.

I didn't unwind my fingers or my hand from his, but with my other I removed the towel from my shoulder and held it out toward him, raising an exasperated eyebrow. He stared at it for a minute, and then laughed. And not one of those prissy fake ones either. A real laugh. A laugh that rang like wind chimes and made my eyes snap open to their widest.

He hesitantly made to take the towel from my hands, but I caught his wrist. The mage's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at me, bemused. I turned off the shower—stopping the flow of water that'd soaked us both. Slowly, not for one second letting go of his eyes, I carefully pulled him up. It was feat in itself that my heart hadn't exploded through my chest and began writhing on the ground for the world to see.

The expression on his face was now utterly bewildered. He blinked dumbly as I led him to the—much, much drier—outer rooms where spare uniforms and clothes and towels were kept. I was as dripping wet as he was, so I pulled out another towel and a pair of clothes.

In the single second we stepped out from the steam-infested depths of the baths, he'd instantly wrapped his hands around himself, not shivering….but shuddering. Any other time, I would've been over my head that the mage was fucking naked and standing beside me…..but for some reason…..today my body didn't even know what a hormone was.

He sat on the bench, his hair damp against his forehead and neck, dripping water onto the wood. I ignored the cold wind blowing around my wet form and touched the towel to his hair. The mage's eyes blinked up at me as he mumbled something and closed his hand over mine……the word he said sounded final. "Stop", maybe?

But I couldn't. I continued to ease the towel through and over his hair, holding locks of it in my hands as gently as I could—why would anyone waste a single strand of hair like that? It was soft and feathery even when weighed down with water. Through this entire time I had no idea what my face looked like. Last time I checked it was just….blank—instinctive. Doing things like this for the mage seemed nothing more than instinct now…..like I'd been made for nothing else.

And when I did finally come apart, the confusion in his eyes was erased. He looked almost…..scared of me. There was warning in his eyes, and I could've sworn he even shook his head infinitesimally. He didn't look reluctant….just afraid. With a few more seconds, I saw that it wasn't fear of me. It was fear of what was happening.

Again. _Again_. Why didn't that mage want to get close to anyone? What could've ever possibly had happened to him that would've made him this reluctant to get close to anyone? I knew it was because he didn't want to make anyone unhappy or some other bull, but how did he know that it wouldn't make someone unhappier if he wasn't with them at all?

I was past all caring now. The knowledge of him wanting me in return was enough to shove me to the point where I no longer cared what his mind needed or wanted—I only wanted him, and I would have him.

But I touched his face again, and I knew all his resistance crumbled to the ground. His wet hands moved to the hem of my shirt—the soaked cloth stuck to every fold of my body—and hesitantly tugged it upward, over my head. He kneaded it around nervously in his hands, looking at me….wondering if he'd gone too far.

I rolled my eyes at him and that smile appeared again. It wasn't….a happy smile….but it was sincere and serious….and I had to say I liked these ones better than the infuriatingly, annoying peppy ones he usually gave me. When the mage was solemn…..I actually kind of….liked him.

I knew I liked him before, but it was a forced kind of liking. This one….I just….liked him. I brought the towel through my own hair and over my torso; eventually shedding my pants and drying my legs, before exchanging for a dry pair of clothes.

Even after I'd dressed, the idiot was still naked as Eve, sitting on the bench watching me with that curious, solemn smile. His hair had already dried thoroughly. "You're going to catch cold, idiot." I'd said it before I remembered he couldn't hear me.

He only raised an eyebrow and laughed quietly—like his smile, it wasn't free and superficial…it was sadder….the laugh of someone who'd seen years and years of history…..but I liked it better. It fit him well, too. I tossed him the smallest size I found—you wouldn't believe how hard it was to find a pair that actually fit him.

The mage slipped into them as though they'd been made for him and stood up lithely. He slung his towel over his shoulder and gestured with his head for me to follow him. I frowned. What? I knew my way back to the tent.

He was motioning with an arm now, waving for me to follow him. I walked behind him, letting him lead a few steps since I had no clue why we were going the opposite direction from the baths and deeper into the forest.

The leaves crunched beneath our bare feet—why both of us had been stupid enough to forget boots, I couldn't fathom—but the rare patches of bare earth were warm, even though there wasn't much the sun could do about the thick canopy of trees.

It was sudden, but as we walked farther and farther away from the camp, a soft melody began filling my ears—sweet, biting, and almost painfully clear….it was the mage humming. I was used to hearing his voice laughing and teasing and mutilating my name and other words in all different ways. I nearly never heard it serious—and when I did, it lasted hardly enough time for me to appreciate or gauge it. But in motion….in song like this….even I—who, by the way, hated music for the most part, unless it was a war dirge—had to appreciate its sad beauty.

It was the kind of tune that wrapped itself around the perimeter of your mind and refused to release. I could hazard a guess that it was a lullaby, but it was too creepy to put some kid to sleep. Not creepy exactly….more like….haunting.

I jogged up a bit to fall into step with him. My shoulder brushed against his and he stopped humming, looking up at me with an apologetic smile. I shook my head, "Go on." His eyebrows went up. I touched his lips. "Go on," I repeated.

A light of understanding appeared on his face and he continued, only this time he added lyrics. There was something calming about the fact that I hadn't a shit what he was singing about, nor did I know the song. His language—the syllables, the sounds—were so different from mine….but they had a kind of….fluency. It was calming, like I'd said.

I hardly noticed how dark the sky had grown….too busy staring at how the mage's eyes lidded over when he sang….how his face looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here…how the burning of emotion beneath the simple melody was almost suffocating.

It wasn't black yet, but it was certainly evening, and the sun had gone down a while ago. We wouldn't be missed at camp….though if we didn't return in two days—probably the amount of time they'd think we'd last on our own—they'd send a search party, expecting us to be deserting or kidnapped.

When the song ended—or he just stopped singing—the mage sighed deeply. He looked up at me with his eyes soft and slightly amused but mostly sad. I only noticed where he'd led me after he swept his arm out, fell away from my side, and collapsed to lie spread-eagle on the grass.

It was the clearing where most of the soldiers sometimes went to get water or to train. An enormous lake took up most of it, but there was decent firm ground surrounding it. The mage was staring up at the sky—a slightly darker shade than what his own eyes had been—and his expression was completely blank. The air was warmer than usual, now that we were in dry clothes, and bits of nightlife were beginning to poke their noses out.

I leaned down and folded myself beside him, his head near my thigh and my hand pressed into the grass near his head—the wisps of blond hair feathered against my wrist. His eyes were closed and his breathing even, as though in sleep. It was a world far from my own—and even farther from his…then why did this feel like home?

I lowered myself until his breath fluttered up and mingled with mine…I could still feel the heat from the baths radiating from him. His eyes opened—coal black, and nothing like they should be. His hand moved to touch the hair at the back of my neck—his fingertips were cold, despite the warmth of the rest of him. We didn't kiss. We just stayed like that, our faces mere moments away from the other's, and our lips nearly touching….eyes half-closed…feeling something that neither of us had ever felt—at least I no way in hell hadn't…I didn't know if the same could be said for him.

Instinctively…almost routinely….he straightened and I fell….my head in his lap, one of his hands holding him up and the other lightly in my hair. My arms were crossed and one of my legs were folded up, knee in the air. He was in the perfect position to be gazing at the sky….at the stars….but he didn't. He was gazing down at me.

Okay. You can shut up now. Do you guys ever get…y'know…thirsty? Screaming that much has gotta take a toll somewhere. Any of you got your tonsils taken out? That's surprising. The screaming's getting reeeeaaally annoying now, guys. I'm trying to ask you nicely to shut the fuck up. Okay….so nice doesn't work.

Forgive me, mage.

ALL RIGHT, IF YOU DON'T SHUT THE FUCKING _HELL_ UP RIGHT _NOW_, I'LL SCREW YOU ALL WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR _LIVES_ AND KICK YOU OUT OF SHIRA-FUCKING-SAGI, GOT THAT?!?!

A few of you are looking at me hopefully, as though you _want_ me to screw you into the floor. The rest are looking at me with amused grins…like a ninja isn't scary at all.

All right then. You know, what? Fuck you all. I'm done with this.


	8. Just A Minute, Ladies

Chapter Eight: Just A Minute, Ladies

Oh, hello again. Where's Kuro-tan? All of you look somewhat…sad. My eyebrows go up in realization. Did he get frustrated with you and your……enthusiasm? He doesn't really mean it, I'm sure. I smile exasperatedly. He really should've kept the earplugs, huh? Ah well, I think I can…convince him one way or another to continue. Excuse me, ladies.

I dart out of the room…………………………….only to return minutes later…furisode thrown open, an irate ninja sprinting at my heels. Kuro-wan growls incoherently and chases me around the perimeter of the room. All of you watch with wide, excited eyes—the upset wiped from your faces—and a few of you bring out….metal hunks that emit little clicks when you hold them up toward us.

I let him pin me to the ground, my legs sprawled open….underwear forgotten. His fingers are caressing me down there but nothing remains on my face but a serene smile—not aroused in the slightest. No can do, Kuro-chi. Not until you give these lovely young ladies what they're due. Don't you even know how to _define_ "gentleman"?

"No," he snarls, his fingers beginning to do something that takes a far greater amount of concentration to resist and keep the damn thing _down_. My throat constricts a bit in effort, but I manage it.

Well, then, I guess you won't be getting any until tomorrow. _Night_. With a challenging smile, I pulled away from him stood up—as best I could—and tied my robes together, ignoring the throbbing between my legs.

His jaw is set and he looks positively furious—caught between a rock and a…erm…hard place. I lean back against the wall. Very, very hard place.

He knows he'd rather hurt himself than physically assault me, but he's still young, no matter what he says, and his hormones are as good and active as yours. And I know from experience…when hormones rage…a body like mine is almost painful to be around. It was a good tool in diplomacy back in Celes.

Kuro-puu huffs and crosses his arms tightly. "Fine. I'll finish telling them the fucking damn story."

I let out an exhalation of relief—had he not complied…it was off to a very…cold bath for me. I smile at him. See? That wasn't so hard, was it, Kuro-chi? I turn around and head for the door only to be stopped by a hand on my back. Very low on my back.

Kuro-tan, don't you think you're going just the tiniest bit overboard with the sex? Just a bit? Even Amaterasu—who usually never says anything about this—has implied how you've been holed up in our bedroom (or any other room with a flat surface) and would only come out if an assassin was scaling the rooftops? I turn to you all desperately. Isn't there some sort of newfound disease for this sort of thing?

Kuro-rin raises his eyebrows at you. "If you tell him otherwise, we'll do it right here. Swear it on my grave."

If there is a world—or all the worlds'—record on how wide a grin can be, then you've all just broken it as you all say simultaneously that sex is a wonderful activity for burning calories and staying in shape and has no downside whatsoever.

And Kuro-tan proceeds to break _that_ grin-width world record, as he looks down at me, teeth bared, looking rather like a spiky-furred cat staring down a poor blond canary. I'm backed up against the table—it's pushed up at the wall—and I swivel my head a bit to give all of you a Look. What do they teach you at school these days?

But before I can get another word out, his fingers are caressing me down…south again and this time I can't even frame enough coherency to keep it flat and his mouth's on mine and his fingers are heating up and so is my body and the screams haven't started—maybe just shock?—but I can feel my clothes coming off and blindly I tug his own robes loose and open—his tongue's running up my thigh and around it and his mouth is on my stomach and my shoulders and—

This'll just be a few minutes, ladies.


	9. Sucked To Be Me

Chapter Nine: Sucked To Be Me

I lightly throw the mage's robes over him, spreading out enough to cover him so that nosey, perverted little girls—I glare—can't peek at him. One of you grins at me and says, "That's your job, right?" I try to glare back but I can't.

Well….it _is_.

All of you are completely high with the fact that I just did the guy in front of your very eyes. How were we? You all nod enthusiastically saying how extremely…..hell, I ain't saying those words ever. The mage lifts his head weakly—he's lying across my lap—and asks, "Don't you feel sorry for me? Just look at what Kuro-tan did…" I glare at him. And I'll do it to you again if you don't shut up and let me get on with this—you _were_ the one who nagged me to keep going in the first place.

He looks at me for a minute before saying, "I would ask if that was a threat, but…." He smiles. "Just go on."

I narrow my eyes at him, but I face you all, keeping the fingers of one hand threaded through the mage's. So where were we? Yama, right?

The next months passed in a blur of scenes. I knew that I should stop. That people like me just weren't meant to…to fall like this—because when we finally reached the bottom we'd never get back to the top. I was being drawn in deeper and deeper and before long—if it didn't stop soon—it'd be too far to turn back.

The worst part? I wasn't in any control of this. It would only stop when he said it—

"What do you mean you weren't in any control?" the mage says concernedly, sitting up—the silk falls off his body and you all smile in delight.

Huh. And you said _I_ was a bad listener. You interrupt as freaking much as I do! And put on your _clothes_ for fuck's sakes. Any more and we'll have a third intermission, mage.

He purses his lips and straightens enough to slip into the furisode. He takes a seat beside me. "Better?" he asks innocently, his arm using my shoulder as a rest. It'll do, I answer shortly.

And then of course, it was that memory. The one that ended Yama, but began what neither of us could possibly have thought would ever happen. Right after it'd happened, I seriously considered regretting that it'd ever happened…but if it hadn't, then…I didn't know if what followed would've either.

We were in the same positions as the time near the lake—it was dark, and he was sitting back against a tree, but like before, my head was on his lap and my leg propped up. His hand ran through my hair, stroking it again and again—the cool fingers pressing gently into my scalp.

I pushed myself up, and he was already leaning down—his eyes blank. All this time they were always unfeeling—as though I were the only one feeling everything. I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe it was true. Maybe he was just bored…he was enchanting me…making an idiot out of me—no matter how many times I called him the idiot, it was clear who was smarter when it came to these sorts of things. And even if he was only toying with me….

I wanted him to keep doing it.

I'd never been a masochist…but this should be an exception, damn it. This entire DEAL should be a fucking exception to everything in my damn fucking book. This was entirely out of the boundaries of sanity and logic and all other things I used to think. This was insane—as insane as the mage. I didn't want to like this. I didn't want to like this feeling even though I was being fucking dragged, and pushed, and shoved, and yanked into it.

Why did I want this so much?

That was mainly why I did it. I didn't want him to get bored of me. I wanted him to keep this fan-fucking-tastic game going as long as I could. I didn't want him to stop. No, suicide was never even a option to me….I'd live no matter what he did to me….but I'd be dead inside.

I was the one who made the first move, after all, sliding my hands beneath his thighs. I was the one who finally called his name after refraining to do so since I'd met him. Why hadn't I used it before? "Fai." Maybe because he butchered my name so I never even used his.

But he continued the act—pushing it further by untying the cord holding my pants together. I just wanted to see what'd happen—what it'd feel like. I purposely made it so that it wouldn't be anything but the bare act. I wanted to know if it was just like fucking around with a kunoichi—any kunoichi—or if it'd feel different because it was him.

I was nervous, that much I wouldn't deny. Not because it was my first time—hell no. Did you _know_ how many drunken kunoichi Souma brought home every night? Yeah, a lot.

No. I was nervous because I didn't want to hurt him. Yeah, sure, I sounded like one hell of a puss, but it was the truth. He didn't look like the most durable of men….and I wasn't really what you'd call small.

But there was no room for second thoughts—no preparation, no consideration. It was the bare act and absolutely nothing fucking else. That was it.

And I was so fucking done for.

Yeah he was tight and warm and pretty wet for a guy with no oil or anything, but damn. Damn. Damn fucking shit fucking damn shit fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

"You know you really don't have to swear every—"

Shut up, mage, you're ruining the effing mood.

He shuts up.

It wasn't the high that was so intensely great or shit. It wasn't the sex. The sex was all right and the high average….it was him. It was the fact that it was him that made it so…unforgettable. Unbelievable. Incredible.

I could only lie there, staring up at the stars and wondering how the fucking _hell_ I was supposed to get out of this with my insides intact and my mind sane. What was anyone supposed to do in a situation like this? Where their entire mental being depended on another person? A person they knew practically zero shit about?

I straightened myself up to sit back against the tree, trying to compose my breathing. He was already struggling to get up, yanking up his pants and fumbling to tie them.

No. No. You could leave. Don't.

I said those words, knowing he couldn't understand me and thankful that he couldn't. He stared at me, eyes wide—almost shocked. His wrist lingered in my hand for minutes—he just stood there staring at me, uncomprehending. Or…not wanting to comprehend.

Slowly but surely….his face contorted into one filled with undefiled disgust and he ripped his wrist out of my grasp. I didn't know what the word he spat at me was…but I had a good idea of what it meant.

I didn't know you could stab someone without a weapon.

Great. Now you're all glaring at the mage. He doesn't look annoyed like he's supposed to. He looks…sorry…sad almost. I glare. Okay, if you keep that up and get him emo again, I'll stop here, damn it. He smiles quietly at me, "They have every right to do that, Kuro-tan. Just wait until Infinity."

I glare harder and fold my arms. Yeah, just you wait.

We saw Syaoran only the next day. So apparently all that freakin' training we did in Oto didn't go to waste on him. Pretty sharp for a kid. Pretty damn determined, too.

But I could understand the mage now, not that it made a difference. I couldn't say anything I wanted to his face. I couldn't say that I wanted him. I couldn't say any of those things. I couldn't tell him what I'd realized because of this world.

I couldn't tell him that I'd fallen in love with him.

Fuck.


End file.
